


Thought I'd Ask You Just the Same

by Ray_Writes



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 18:13:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13218225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ray_Writes/pseuds/Ray_Writes
Summary: Donna's never had a New Years' Eve kiss.





	Thought I'd Ask You Just the Same

**Author's Note:**

> I'm apparently not done writing holiday-themed things for these two. I've had a lot of fun writing Doctor/Donna stories in 2017, getting all your wonderful comments and even making friends. Here's hoping to more of that in 2018! Happy New Year, and enjoy!

Donna didn’t actually hate New Year’s Eve. It wasn’t like Christmas. She _wanted_ to like it.

But New Year’s didn’t seem to like her much. At least, there had to be some kind of explanation for how she was well into her thirties and had yet to receive her New Years’ kiss.

There had always seemed to be something to thwart her plans. She was single; the men at the bar all found someone else; she got stuck at a work party; she got stuck with her _family_ ; she had a boyfriend, but he disappeared before the clock struck twelve — one had gone off to suck face with some other woman, a second one had gone off to do the same with a man; and another year her date had had too much to drink and greeted the first minutes of 2003 with his head in the toilet. She hadn’t known Lance long enough to reach the milestone of a New Year and in truth was grateful for it now. The last two years she’d just stayed in.

That wasn’t an option this year, though. The Doctor never could resist a holiday or a good party.

Donna had gotten all bundled up in a coat and hat and mitts — she’d taken one look at what the TARDIS had had on hand for the time period and decided she and Spaceman weren’t at a point in their friendship where she could ask him to lace her into a corset — and let him lead her out into the crowd gathering in Times Square. She’d always wanted to see New York City, though she hadn’t expected carriages and old-timey automobiles and women with wide-brimmed and feathered hats when she’d first planned to go!

It was like something out of an old painting. Children laughed and raced up and down the streets or through the square, a dog or two at their heels with tails wagging. Men and women stood around and chatted with each other or strolled along, while others began gathering near a platform that had been set up for a speaker. The occasional strain of music could be heard from a street musician, though they didn’t appear to have booked anything official. It was a far cry from Christina Aguilera and Ryan Seacrest at any rate!

“So why’d you pick this year? Thought you would’ve wanted to go for the turn of the century or something.”

“Well, you already lived through that one, didn’t you? Suppose we could’ve gone to 2099, but there’s nothing particularly interesting about it.”

Donna thought that over. If he thought the turn of the century wasn’t all that special, there had to be something that set this year apart. “It’s not the first one, is it? The first time people all gathered in Times Square?”

“Nope,” he said, smiling at her guess while still searching for a good vantage point for them. As long as they weren’t smushed between too many people, Donna wasn’t bothered. “ _But_ it is the debut for a particular part of the celebration.”

His gaze was cast far above the heads of their fellow revelers, and suddenly it hit her.

“The ball drop.”

“Oh yes, 1907! The start of a tradition that’s gone on for just over a century by your time.”

Donna looked about again with some renewed interest. The first ever ball drop. Hard to imagine a New Year’s without it either playing on the telly in the background of some party in the early hours of the morning while everyone was passed out or catching it briefly on the news the next day, but here they were about to witness history being made. “Is that it up there?” She asked, pointing.

“Yep. Took six men to hoist it up the flagpole. And it’s only a fraction of the weight of the one from your time. But there’s a couple different designs that come between, too.”

“You really know your stuff about this,” she couldn’t help pointing out. Sure, he was usually an encyclopedia and travel guide all rolled into one, but this kind of detail was really pushing it.

Spaceman grinned at her. “It’s a celebration all about time, Donna. Marking the passage from one year to the next. Moving forward to the future while cherishing the past, and all happening in the present! Almost every civilization on every planet in the universe has some type of celebration dedicated to this moment.”

When he said it like that it certainly didn’t make the holiday seem so bad. Yet Donna couldn’t help noticing as she looked around at the crowd just how many people seemed to be paired off together. Couples everywhere, just like back home. She wondered if that’s how things were on every planet in the universe, too.

“And does 1907 have _all_ the parts of a New Year’s celebration from my time?”

“Er, I suppose. Maybe less live performances. _Auld Lang Syne_ doesn’t really get going over here till the Guy Lombardo broadcast.”

Great, just great. Donna cast a look back at the TARDIS. “That wind’s strong, isn’t it? We might freeze out here before the drop even happens. Maybe I should go back and get us some hot chocolate.” If she took long enough, she could miss the whole thing.

“You’re lucky I didn’t take you ten years from now. One of the coldest New Year’s Eves on record,” he told her with little sympathy standing there in his usual coat and suit combination. His brow furrowed when she didn’t respond, and there was real concern now as he asked, “Donna, is something wrong? Do you really want to leave?”

Oh, now she’d done it. She didn’t want him feeling badly for disappointing her. Wasn’t as if he could know her aversion to this particular time of year.

“No, it’s alright.” She did her best to put a smile on.

It must not have worked, for Spaceman asked, “Is it the holiday? I didn’t think you hated this one.”

“No, I don’t. Or I wouldn’t hate it if I’d never—” she only just managed to stop herself.

“Never what?” The Doctor prompted. It wasn’t likely he’d let it go.

“Maybe I’d like some other planet’s celebration better. Do they all do the same thing?”

“What thing is that?”

She was really going to have to say it, wasn’t she? Donna glanced around them to make sure no one was listening in — yeah, they didn’t know her, but Donna didn’t fancy the idea of a bunch of strangers knowing how pathetic she was — and finally muttered, “Kissing.”

The Doctor stared at her. “What?”

Donna rolled her eyes. “You know, at the stroke of midnight you’re supposed to get kissed by someone. Your boyfriend, your crush, a cute bloke at the bar. What, have you never had one either?”

“No, can’t say I have. Well, I did kiss someone on New Years’ Eve once, but it wasn’t at midnight.”

She found herself raising an eyebrow. “Yeah? When was that?”

He thought about it for a moment. “1999.”

Donna shook her head. She didn’t know why she’d bothered. Not like that was the sort of thing they were meant to talk about. “So is it not a tradition on other planets?”

“I suppose it is on some and not on others, though that’s probably because they don’t show affection the same way there. But closeness with the people you care about and want around you going into the New Year is a pretty important part of any New Years’ celebration. Even back during Roman times with the Saturnalia — oh, we could go there, that’s always a great time!”

“Is there kissing?” Donna asked.

He froze, then tugged on his ear. “Er, quite a bit more than that, actually.”

“Look, let’s just stick it out here and get it over with.” It beat sitting around at the pub watching her old friends get lucky while she went unkissed for who knew how many years in a row at this point.

“But I want you to have a good time,” he insisted.

“Well, unless you can find me an available pair of lips —” She began, turning to him, then stopped.

“Donna?”

He was right here, next to her, and, barring sudden alien attack, he wasn’t about to leave her out of the blue. Her Spaceman, the person she most wanted to be close to this New Year, and the next, and the next into forever. The perfect opportunity.

“I don’t suppose... _we_ could —”

Donna only just managed to get ahold of herself in time. What was she thinking? Was she really that desperate? What part of ‘just mates’ had she not understood?

The Doctor was still looking for her to finish. “We could what?”

“No, forget it. It’s stupid.”

There was a man standing on the platform and speaking to the crowd now. Donna couldn’t really make it out from where they were, but people seemed to be getting excited. She tore her eyes from the Doctor’s lips and turned away, yet he reached for her arm and leaned in close to be heard.

“No, it isn’t. Donna, whatever you have to say, I want to hear it.”

“But it’s against the rules!”

“Rules?”

“Our rules!”

“10! 9!” People began to shout from near the front, and those around them and further back took up the countdown as well.

The Doctor didn’t seem to notice, too busy staring at her. “You want me to kiss you for New Years?”

“I didn’t say that,” she disputed immediately. “Actually, I said that would be stupid.” It had been stupid of her to even think it; she knew that was off-limits.

“But you were gonna ask.”

Why was he being so insistent about this?

“6! 5!”

“Only cos I thought it’d be better than going yet another year alone!” Why had she even told him? As if he needed more to go on that she’d been an absolute failure back home. “So can we drop it, because I don’t need yet another rejection, either!”

She fixed her eyes determinedly on the — to her 21st century perspective — tiny ball as it slid ever closer to the bottom of the pole.

“3! 2!”

On the very last count of _“1!”_ , she felt Spaceman’s hold on her arm tighten before he spun her back around to face him and planted his lips on hers.

Her first instinct was to back up and give him an earful for what was obviously a pity kiss, but when she tried, she lost her footing and started to fall, only to be caught by the arm he wound around her waist — and that was about when Donna realized this was not a pity kiss at all.

He hadn’t stopped kissing her, for one thing, even with the shift of position. They were in sort of a dip as a result, and his other hand was cradling the back of her head so his mouth could keep moving against Donna’s with no risk of discomfort to her. It was...he was really quite good.

She was responding without even thinking about it. Donna nipped at his lips when he sucked her bottom one between his teeth and made some involuntary sound as his tongue swept over it. God, this was shaping up to be a New Years’ snog the way they were going!

But the Doctor pulled his mouth from hers just a breath away, and she could feel it washing over her face as he looked down at her, a clear question in his eyes. A question she’d been trying to avoid answering for weeks now.

What were they doing?

Whether it was an answer or not, Donna didn’t say anything just as he’d not asked anything. Instead, she took the hands that had clutched at the lapels of his coat during her near-fall and pulled him back down to meet her lips again.

She’d realize later that there were fireworks — actual fireworks going off in the sky — but she didn’t even notice them. The strong wind that had stung at her cheeks earlier didn’t even register what with the warmth that seemed to be blooming in her chest. Donna’s arms were looped around his neck, and when she pulled herself back up to standing properly it left them pressed up against each other. Which was fine considering how well they were getting to know each other’s mouths already.

A woman coughed loudly into her hand, which finally broke the pleasant haze that had settled over her, and it occurred to Donna that the kiss they’d just shared was not exactly period-appropriate for 1907. Or for just a couple of mates, for that matter.

They stepped back from each other, the Doctor managing a stilted, “Er, sorry,” to the person with the easily offended sensibilities. He reached for her hand, probably on automatic, and began cutting a path through the crowd to the TARDIS.

“Happy New Year!” Donna called back over the explosions of fireworks going on above. For once, she felt in the mood to say it. She’d gotten her New Year’s kiss.

But at what cost? Seriously, what had that been?

She finally got her chance to ask once he’d unlocked the police box doors and led them inside. Donna shut the doors behind her, canceling out the noise of the revelers as well.

“Why’d you do that?”

He was busying himself with the controls. Donna marched up the ramp and right to his side.

“Doctor.”

He avoided looking at her and took a long while to gather up his answer. “Because, well, you weren’t alone. Aren’t alone.”

Donna looked down. She could feel her cheeks start to heat up. “I didn’t mean I was _actually_ alone.” Seriously, was that what all that out there had been about? Just proving a point?

“I hope not.”

Donna blinked, then raised her gaze back to his face. There was not a trace of teasing or insincerity.

“You know you’re — you’re supposed to kiss someone you—” Donna struggled for a moment. “You know.”

Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe he’d just thought it had to be the person on hand at the time. And sure, there’d been the sad occasion or two where she’d accepted a peck on the cheek from her Gramps, but that was a far cry from nearly swapping spit with her supposed to be strictly platonic best friend.

“You’re meant to kiss someone you want to _be_ with,” she finally elaborated weakly, fully aware that she had thoroughly kissed him back and just what that was going to have to look like. “In the New Year.”

“And if I did?”

She had no idea what sort of expression was on her face right now. All she knew was that a startled, “ _What_?” almost burst from her.

Spaceman winced. “I — you were right, that was stupid. Forget I said anything. Or did anything.” He was walking away from her around the console, placing the time rotor between her and him. “You know, we ought to give Droxam a shot for ringing in the New Year. They’ve got a perfectly lovely night lights festival and a total ban on public displays of affection. Can’t even hold hands with someone without a permit—”

“Yeah, maybe not for us, then,” Donna interrupted as she followed around to the side of the console he was on. “But you were saying something, and if you’re gonna listen to every stupid thing that comes out of my mouth—”

Rather than try to keep avoiding her, he re-engaged at those words. “Donna, I’ve told you, the things you say aren’t stupid.”

“Then neither’s what you say,” she stated, watching with a bit of smug satisfaction as his mouth fell open. His lips were still very red and maybe a bit swollen. Donna refocused. “So go on, out with it.”

“I’m not sure I should say anything, though,” he told her.

She placed a hand on her hip. “Why not?”

“Well, it’d _really_ be against our rules, for one thing.”

“Pretty sure the rules have been indefinitely suspended,” she decided. Hell, they’d just snogged for non-life-saving reasons, might as well give up on the mess they’d made of it.

The Doctor seemed to realize the same thing. He shifted about on his feet, glancing at her with his head ducked so that he ended up looking much...smaller than usual. All the things they’d faced, and he’d never been so nervous.

She took a half-step forward and placed a hand on his arm, hoping he’d see it was only her and nothing to get frightened over.

With a single steadying breath, he began. “Donna, you are my best friend in the whole universe, and I like to think that’s mutual.” He waited for her nod, then continued. “If that’s all we ever were the rest of our time together, that would be perfectly alright with me. But...” the Doctor trailed off.

“But?” She prompted when he seemed hesitant to go on.

“If I were the person you wanted to kiss at New Year’s — or possibly any other time of year — then that would be more than alright.” By the time he’d finished, his voice was barely above a mumble, as if that might allow them to pretend he hadn’t said it at all if they so chose.

But Donna couldn’t. Donna didn’t think she could ever forget those words if she tried.

Spaceman cleared his throat, then squeaked, “So, er, Droxam?”

Donna stared at him for a long moment. “No.”

“No?” He watched as she moved to the controls and started up a new course. “Donna, you’re not — you’re not going home, are you?”

She looked up at him, bewildered. “What? Course not.” That was always the first thing he jumped to, honestly. “How do I put us one year in the future?”

“One year?”

“Well, not exactly a year. New Year’s Eve, 1908.”

He finally moved to help her, even if it was clear he didn’t have a clue what she was up to. She sort of liked it that way.

“Alright, Times Square, New York City, the 31st of December, 1908, about two minutes to midnight. But why — Donna!”

She’d grabbed hold of his arm and yanked him out the doors into the cold. Donna didn’t mind it so much this time; she was starting to feel a little warm in the TARDIS.

The Doctor let himself be dragged into the crowd to about where they’d been standing the previous year a few minutes ago. Then he dug in his heels. “Donna, what are we doing here? Again?”

“Getting it right.” She turned to face him and threw her arms around his neck again. “Okay, I’m ready this time.”

“Ready?”

Around them, the crowd began the countdown, and Donna saw his eyes practically bulge as it finally hit him. Tentatively, he rested his hands on her waist, and when she didn’t bat them away a grin stole over his features.

“So, is this your way of saying you’re alright with it, too, or is it just the New Year’s thing?”

Donna smirked. “Figure it out yourself, you big genius.”

Just as the count hit _“1!”_ once more, she rocked up onto her toes and met his lips again, sure to scandalize some other poor woman from the 20th century. Donna didn’t pay it much mind.

She had an awful lot of New Years to catch up on.


End file.
